


Pain is Inevitable

by Writerofshit (kay_samm)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mavin, One sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_samm/pseuds/Writerofshit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pain is inevitable when it comes to Michael.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain is Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Longest AH I've written. Angsty,depressed Gavin is my favorite. Oops.

In the beginning, Michael only calls him when he’s drunk.

The first time he picks up and hears Michael’s half slurred voice say “Just…Come over, Gavin. Please.” he doesn’t even change his clothes. He stuffs his feet in sneakers, grabs his house key and goes.

It’s only by pure luck and a full bladder does he run into Geoff.

"It’s fucking two a.m. Where the fuck are you going?"

He says that Michael called, and he just has to go.

Geoff wonders out loud if it’s a good idea but Gavin’s decided to go no matter what so he might as well give the idiot a ride. When they get there Geoff tries to reason with him again.

"Gav, you know he’s not-"

The car door slams before he gets the rest out and he only hopes that Gavin doesn’t get hurt.

(But of course Gavin gets hurt because this is about Michael and since when is Michael anything but a set of popping stitches?)

When they go to work the next day all three pretend not to know.

Geoff pretends not to notice the marks on Gavin’s neck and Michael acts like he didn’t put them there.

There’s a brief moment when the office is practically empty and Geoff just has to know how bad this all is. “Did you hear from Gavin last night? I ran into him right before he left, at like 2. He just said he was going out. Do you know where he might have been?”

Michael looks him dead in the eye and lies. “Nope. You know I don’t keep track of that asshole.”

(Gavin never tells either one of them that they should check behind doors before they have those kinds of conversations.)

It becomes a thing, Michael calling Gavin when he’s drunk and lonely. Gavin running full speed ahead because maybe if he runs fast enough it will change things. It doesn’t, but he runs until he’s got blisters on his feet and he’s ready to pass out.

Six months in Gavin thinks he’s woken up more times at Michael’s than he has at the Ramsey’s. He also starts to think he’s spent more time alone there than Michael has.

The first time he skips out is after the fourth phone call. Gavin wakes up alone in Michael’s bed, but that isn’t new. He’s never woken up next to Michael. He goes into the kitchen, expecting to find the man eating a bowl of cereal or drinking coffee. Always for one.

Instead he finds a note. (This is a first but it’s also a last. Michael never leaves him another one.) Michael went into work early, Gavin can catch a cab.

At work they act like everything’s fine. They make jokes and holler at each other over dumb shit. If Gavin didn’t know any better, he’d think its all in his head. Until Michael jokes that he cries himself to sleep at night, and Gavin remembers that only three nights ago, he did exactly that and _Gavin_  was the one to kiss his tears away, _Gavin_ was the one to hold him tight and promise things would be ok.

But Michael doesn’t say any of that, just keeps on joking.

(The whole fucking thing is a giant joke, a game. One where Gavin’s feelings don’t matter and he only takes a turn when Michael wants him to.)

It becomes routine, fucking around at work and then actually fucking at Michael’s apartment.

Because Gavin knows that’s all it is. The idea that it might be out of love, or at least Michael’s love for him, is so laughable it borders on depressing. (Or maybe it _is_  depressing to be so fucking in love with someone that you don’t care if they don’t love you back, you still jump at any chance to believe the lie that they might.)

It isn’t even about good sex. Though it is oh so good, at least in Gavin’s eyes. It’s on his mind almost constantly. Michael’s skin under his fingertips, Michael’s lips hard against his own. The heat of Michael inside of him, hands on his hips hard enough to leave bruises.

It’s about loneliness, comfort and terrible decisions. It’s about needing flesh and heat that you know, that will hold you when you’re not who you want to be. It’s about needing to be loved.

And Gavin can love Michael. He does love him, so fucking much that it eats up every bit of love he had for himself. (God knows it never gets replaced because Michael’s never going to love him.)

He never sticks around after sex. He’s there at least until Gavin falls asleep, but never when he wakes up. There was only ever one note, but every day after there’s nothing. Gavin gets a cab or he walks or sometimes he calls Geoff.

At first Geoff tries to get him to stop. He doesn’t know the details but he can take educated guesses. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the  whole thing isn’t healthy. Gavin just tells him it’s not his business.

Three months in Geoff turns to over swearing at him. 

That doesn’t work either, so he gives up talking about it because Gavin’s a fucking idiot who’s never going to listen. (After that Gavin stops calling him; he sneaks clothes into Michael’s apartment and walks to work.)

At eight months things get more fucked up than they already were.

Michael makes an effort to be gone when Gavin wakes up. His internal clock always wakes him up with just enough to shower, dress and grab his bag. (Gavin never realizes that its the sound of Michael’s car starting that wakes him up.)

Except one night they’re up later than normal and Michael doesn’t wake up on time.

Gavin rolls over, expecting nothing but air. Instead he hits a body and it startles them both awake. Michael turns his head and his eyes widen. They stare at one another, minutes passing in silence as they process what it could mean. Michael speaks first.

"Oh fuck."

Of all the responses in the world, it’s the one he expects the most and hopes for the least.

He doesn’t expect Michael to wrench himself from the bed and start to storm out. His hand hits the doorknob just as it reaches his ears.

“ _Michael.”_ the name comes out strangled, surprising even Gavin. He sits up, legs folded under the sheet.

Michael pauses, unsure. All he wants to do is leave, drink until it all goes away.

“ _Please.”_

Michael turns, stomps back. “What, Gavin?” His talks with his hands, flailing gestures that match the anger on his face. “What do you want? You wanna fuckin talk because you think its gonna do something?”

"Don’t you think we should?" His voice is small, quiet. Like a child who’s been reprimanded.

"Yeah, we’ll fuckin talk. How about the weather? It’s fuckin gorgeous out. Or do you wanna talk about how I try like hell never to be here? Or how you’ve got half a fuckin drawer of clothes tucked away in my linen closet? Or maybe you wanna fuckin talk about how we never fucking talked about this because  _why the fuck would we?”_

His face is red and so are his hands, caught up in the pillow case he ripped from the bed. 

Gavin doesn’t think he’s ever seen Michael so angry. 

"Because." He takes a deep breath. "Because you’re reacting like this. Maybe if we had talked about it when it started, we wouldn’t be here."

Michael is biting his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood. He doesn’t care. “Fuck you.” He starts to leave again, hitting the doorknob. This time he stops himself, no need for Gavin to speak. And he knows because it’s fucking _Gavin,_ and maybe he doesn't love him but that doesn't mean he doesn't _want_ him. 

Gavin waits to hear the door open, waits to know that this is fucked beyond repair...

But it doesn't happen. Instead Michael reappears from around the corner. "Gavin." It comes out softly,more gentle than he's ever said it before. It's almost said soft enough that someone could mistake it for love. "Talking about it isn't..." He tries to find the right way to say it. To say that he knows the younger man is more invested in a plummeting stock, and that he knows it's terrible but he doesn't want that to stop. "When you talk about shit, sometimes stuff that doesn't need to be said gets said." He sits down, back to Gavin. "That didn't need to happen." Because it did happen.

"But Michael-" he'll say that it didn't, and it doesn't matter what the call it as long as they agree that it  _is_ a thing.

"No, Gavin. This is different now."

"Why?"

"Don't make me say it." To actually say that Gavin is in love with him changes things beyond this sex thing. "We both know that... you-"

"I don't know what you're talking about." As much as he wanted to  _talk_ before he's changed his mind. Talking is going to end this. 

"Gavin-"

" _No._ " He can push feelings down and just revel in what he gets. He's been doing it for eight fucking months, he's an expert at this point.

They sit in silence, Michael staring down at his shaking hands, Gavin staring at messy curls.

Finally, Michael laughs. "You known what I'd normally do when I'm this upset?" He glances over his shoulder. "I'd fucking call you."

Gavin's laugh comes out more as a huff of air.

"I can do this." It's little more than a whisper, and Michael isn't sure who Gavin really says it for.

"Yeah, ok." This time when he goes for the door, he actually leaves.

Gavin doesn't known what it means. Yeah, ok, he believes it? Yeah, ok, no you can't? Yeah, ok, but this is still over?

He mulls over the conversation as he showers and dresses in the apparently not-so-hidden clothes. He doesn't even think about what's downstairs. It's going to be the same thing he finds everytime. Nothing.

Except, no. He finds Michael at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal. There's another beside it.

"Is that... is that for me?" He points at the blue bowl, confused.

"No, it's for the fucking neighbor's dog. Eat your goddamn cereal, you dumbass."

It sounds so terrible but it's  _not._ It's Michael sitting through breakfast with him, acknowledging that he's even there. 

It's something he's never done.

They go to work and act like everything's the same as it was yesterday.

Except it's  _not._ Its so much better.

Four months pass in a blur. It's like they're dating, like normal human beings (except nobody knows.) They giggle about dumb shit and they go to movies and mini golf. Gavin starts just showing up at his apartment, and there are times that he spends the night but they don't have sex. They just sleep together. They wake up together and have breakfast and its everything Gavin has ever wanted.

For four months, he has himself believing the lie that Michael just might love him too.

Its a Friday morning and Gavin is in bed while Michael gets dressed. "You wanna go mini golfing tonight?" It's Gavin's idea, because he's been thinking about the time they broke into the office part, and what they did against the desk inside.

"Uhh, I can't." Michael is pulling his Rage Quit shirt over his head. "I have a date."

"You...What?" The words don't process in his mind.

"You know that cute intern? Lindsay?" He yanks a brush through his curls, not bothering to wince even when they must hurt. This has been Gavin's insistence, having gotten tired of his hands getting physically stuck. "I asked her out yesterday." He glances over at Gavin, who's slightly frozen. "What?"

"I thought..." he's such a fucking moron. Of course it didn't mean anything. Of course he'd find someone else. Of course Gavin would get tossed aside when Michael got bored.  _Of course._

"You thought what?"

"Nothing. No. Have fun." He slips out of bed quickly, half running by the time his feet hit the floor.  _Have a great fucking time_ dies in his throat as he slams the door behind himself.

"Gavin!"

He doesn't turn around, doesn't go back. He shoves his feet into sneakers by the door, and he takes off. He runs until his lungs are ready to collapse and he realizes he's gone around the Ramsey's four times. He goes inside, heads straight for bed. He doesn't make it into work.

He doesn't make it on Monday either and Geoff tells everybody that he's sick.

Geoff asks Michael if he seemed sick at all last time he saw him.

Michael looks him dead in the eye and lies. "Nope. But you know I don't keep track of that asshole."

And Geoff could let it go like he did last time but at the same time he  _can't._ So he doesn't.

"You're such a prick, Michael. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What the fuck are you talking about? I didn't do shit." He knows he did but that doesn't mean he has to admit it.

"Don't you fucking get it? _He loves you._ And you know it. But you still fuck with him, just because." He's never wanted to hit Michael more than in that moment. Just once. "He's hurting and you're going on a fucking date."

He doesn't apologize. He doesn't promise to cancel. He doesn't go running to pick up the pieces of what he broke. He just tells the truth.

"He knew what he was getting himself into."

He did. He knew that Michael meant pain. There was no way to get around it. A year ago he could have hung up the phone. He could have stayed in the car. He could have stopped it a million times.

But he didn't. 

And he has no one to blame but himself.


End file.
